Ghosts of Rossi's Past
by VioletOakCypress
Summary: Throughout Rossi's career he has hunted serial killers. He sat face-to-face with and questioned some of the most prolific killers of our time. 15 years after being locked away, one of the most notorious murderers of Rossi's career has been exonerated. Was an innocent man put away, or is this all a part of a larger plan?
1. Chapter 1

"FBI!" Rossi announced as he busted into the main door of a charming two-story home in a quiet suburban neighborhood. He entered into the dark house with Agent Greer directly behind him followed by a quartet of metro police officers.

The local precinct received a call from a person reporting people screaming from their neighbor's home. Rossi hoped that he would be able to finally catch the UnSub he had been hunting. They stormed through the seemingly empty house clearing room by room as they moved.

He approached a room with the name 'Libby' written on the door. He glanced inside the girl's bedroom but didn't see anyone. "Check under the bed and in the closet." Rossi instructed one of the police officers as he continued down the hallway that was covered in framed family memories.

Rossi cautiously approached the master bedroom; he knew what he would find behind the closed door and hated the fact that he wasn't any closer to catching this UnSub. He pushed his way into the room where he found a blood-soaked man lying dead on the bed. As he glanced over the area he noticed that the wife was dead on the ground over to the side of the room, which he found odd. An officer leaned over the poor women with his fingers on her neck, he looked up to Rossi and shook his head.

"Rossi." Agent Greer entered the bedroom. "There is no sign of the girl, Olivia. Should we put out an APB?"

"He has never kidnapped before, that seems out of character for him." Rossi turned back to the woman who was on the floor in front of the closed closet door. He took a few steps closer to the slotted French doors. "Olivia, honey, everything is okay now. I am with the police."

Rossi heard a child's whimper from behind the slotted doors. He quickly grabbed the burgundy throw blanket and covered the woman's body. He then gently opened the doors. "It's okay, sweetheart, my name is David. You can come out now." He crouched down and stared at an eight year old girl who had her face buried into her knees with her arms tightly wrapped around her legs.

Olivia slowly lifted her eyes and peeked up at Rossi as he held out his hand to her. She then glanced to where her mom was, now covered with a blanket.

"Look at me sweetheart, come on." Rossi urged. In one swift motion he swooped her into his arms as she clutched hers around his neck. "You are going to be okay, Olivia."

"Libby." She quietly uttered.

"What?" He asked as he remembered seeing 'Libby' written on her door.

"My name is Libby." She then buried her face into his shoulder.

He stood up as he stroked her back. "I need you to keep your eyes closed, okay? Just until we get out of here," Rossi told her.

Within moments they were downstairs. The dark empty house was now well lit and swarming with police officers, crime scene units, and other personnel. He made his way outside carrying Libby in her nightgown to the ambulance that was parked out front. "Let's have the medics look at you." He went to put her down.

"Don't leave me!" She cried out and clutched onto him tighter.

"I won't leave you. I promise."

Libby looked to him and smiled through her tears.

The medic started to check her vitals as she sat on the back of the ambulance with Rossi by her side holding her hand.

*** 15 Years Later ***

Rossi held onto Libby's hand as they sat in the last row of the courtroom.

She couldn't take her eyes off of the defendant who had aged but looked the same as she remembered. He sat and paid attention to the lawyers arguing their cases. Libby leaned into Rossi. "Do you think he is actually going to get out?"

"I don't know." He wanted to be able to reassure her but he also didn't want to give her false hope. "That was a key piece of evidence that they were able to get thrown out. The rest of the case was mostly circumstantial."

The courtroom collectively went silent awaiting for the judge's ruling. "Based on the blood evidence being inadmissible, I have no choice but to vacate the conviction. John Phelps, you are a free man." The judge slammed down the gavel as the crowd murmured against the ruling.

Phelps stood up and hugged his lawyer with a smile on his face. He turned and looked directly at Libby and gave a wink.

"I need to get out of here." She stood up with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Let me take you home," Rossi insisted.

She shook her head. "Thanks, Uncle Dave, but I think I just need to be on my own for a little bit. I will call you later, okay?"

"Okay." He gave her a hug but felt helpless as he watched her walk down the hallway alone.

* * *

The elevator doors opened to the sixth floor of the BAU. Rossi stepped into the foyer and headed into the bullpen.

"Good morning, Rossi." Prentiss greeted with a smile.

Rossi brushed past her without a word, without acknowledging any of them. He quickly climbed the steps then went into his office where he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Was it something I said?" She turned to the rest of the team.

Hotch stepped out from his office to see all the concerned faces looking up at him for answers. He then went to Rossi's door and knocked. After no response, he announced himself. "Dave?" Still nothing. "I'm coming in." Hotch opened the door to see Rossi sitting at his desk holding onto a framed picture.

"I take it that it wasn't good news." Hotch tilted his head. "Do you need to take some time?"

"He got off, Aaron. A murderer has been set free. I worked that case day and night for months and I _know_ that I got the right guy."

Hotch looked at the picture that his friend was holding, Rossi and Olivia were grinning on her graduation day. She wore her honors proudly. Rossi stood like a peacock next to her. "How is Olivia handling it?"

"You should have seen her face. She tried to put up a brave front, you know how she is, but she is so torn up inside and I just don't know what to do." Rossi admitted.

"Come on, let's gather the team in the conference room." Hotch headed toward the office door.

Rossi shook his head. "You guys go ahead, I think I need to sit this next case out."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Dave. We are going to need you on this one."

"What for?"

"I am reopening the John Phelps case and I am going to need the lead case worker to help."

Rossi smirked as he placed the frame down on his desk. "Let's get this guy."


	2. Chapter 2

The team funneled into the conference room with Hotch bringing up the rear.

"Will Rossi be joining us?" Prentiss asked, concerned.

"He is taking care of something and will be in shortly." Hotch stated as he took his seat. He nodded to Garcia to pass out the folders. "We are reopening the case into John Phelps."

"Who's John Phelps?" JJ asked as she opened the folder.

"The media named him The District Slasher." Reid started. "He murdered twenty-one people in 1995, over a five-month span."

"Sounds like one heck of a spree to me." Prentiss added.

"Why are we looking into this now?" Morgan asked while fiddling with a pencil between his fingers.

"His new lawyer managed to get the key evidence to the case thrown out and he was subsequently released from prison."

"What kind of evidence could just be thrown out that would absolve him from killing twenty-one people?" Morgan questioned.

"He was only arrested for murdering the last two victims. There wasn't enough to categorically link him to all of the victims." Hotch explained.

"That's where I come in. "Garcia stood up with the remote in hand. "This is Ronald and Mary Hill. They were both stabbed to death in their homes while they're eight-year-old daughter, Olivia was in the house."

"Why weren't any of the other cases linked with this one?" Prentiss flipped through the file.

"He was an enigma." Rossi stood in the doorway holding a worn bankers box that he placed on his empty chair. "I worked that case from the very first murder to the last. The only thing that we had to connect him was his methodology. Lawyers don't want to prosecute cases with no physical evidence and he never left any. No fingerprints, fibers, hairs, even the type of knife would vary."

"What connected all the cases together?" JJ asked.

"Each of the victims were killed in their own homes. They were all stabbed thirty-seven times. That was the one detail withheld from the press. But he was all over the map, he crossed gender lines, races, and ages ranged from nineteen to fifty-six."

"What led you to Phelps?" Reid asked.

"He was discovered just a few blocks from the last crime scene. His shirt was covered in blood and he had the knife that was used in his hand. He claimed he was knocked out and when he came to he found himself like that." Rossi snarked. "But he fit the profile, white male in his thirties. He was confident and educated. The crime scenes never showed signs of a struggle, he managed to get his victims to let him into their homes. Phelps grew up in DC and knew the area well. He was physically able to inflict that many stab wounds and charming enough to get invited into people's homes."

"Why was the evidence thrown out?" Morgan questioned.

"A patrolman collected the shirt and knife from Phelps when they picked him up. The bag of evidence was mislabeled and put in the wrong location. His new defense argued that it could have been contaminated." Rossi explained.

"We will be looking into this case from every possible angle, even if it means discounting Phelps." Hotch said as he looked to Rossi. "If it wasn't Phelps, we will need to see why he has stayed dormant for the past fifteen years."

Rossi nodded. "I have already reached out to Metro and the original case detective and he is getting us copies on all of their files. I am going to head over there this afternoon."

"Good, Morgan will go with you," Hotch started. "Prentiss, you and Reid head to the prison and get as much information on him while he was there. JJ, and I will go through Rossi's files and reach out to witnesses and the victim's family members and see if there is anything new we can cover."

"Sir," Garcia looked to Hotch, "I have been searching for all things Phelps and he has a big press conference scheduled soon.

"Probably discussing the huge payment he is expecting from the city." Morgan sassed.

* * *

Rossi entered the police station with Morgan at his side. They headed directly to the large office at the back of the squad room. Rossi knocked on the window of the open door.

A seasoned policeman sat behind his desk writing reports. He stopped and dropped his pen as he looked up to see who was standing in the doorway. "Supervisory Special Agent Rossi." He exclaimed as he got up from his desk.

"How are you, Julio?" Rossi reached out to shake his hand. "This is SSA Morgan."

"Captain Julio Santana," he announced as he met Morgan's hand.

"Captain?" Rossi chuckled then turned to Morgan. "You should have seen him when he was a brand new detective, he would show off that gold shield to anyone he could."

"So, how far do you too go back?" Morgan smirked.

"We first met in 1993, but we wouldn't actually work side-by-side until '95." Santana was a little solemn as he thought about The District Slasher. "In any case, when you said you were coming to pick up the files, I assumed you would send a lackey."

"I wanted to be able to talk with you while I was here." Rossi took a step closer with his hands in his pockets. "What's your department's position on the case?"

"There is no case."

"What?" Rossi was surprised.

"I just had a meeting with the top brass and they don't want us touching it." Santana broke the news.

"What does that mean?" Rossi questioned.

"They don't think it's worth pursuing a fifteen-year-old case where there is no evidence and based off of a hunch from the BAU."

"Are they aware that because of the work we do we have helped to put away serial killers and some of the worst criminal offenders?" Morgan spouted off.

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir with me. I tried to let them know that they were making the wrong decision."

"Well, the BAU is reopening this case. I want to make sure that we get him back where he belongs." Rossi promised.

"Will the Hill girl need to testify?" Santana asked.

"I hope it won't come to that."

"She must be at least twenty by now."

"Twenty-four." Rossi corrected, with a smile on his face.

Morgan couldn't help but take notice of Rossi's body language when talking about Olivia Hill.

"Captain." An officer sitting at his desk held up his phone.

"Give me a minute." Santana listened to the person on the other end. "Thanks, yes, I will want to check that out myself." He looked over to Rossi then put the receiver down.

"We should get going, thanks Julio." Rossi tilted his head toward the door.

"Dave," he paused. "I think you will want to come see this." Santana took a few steps toward his old friend. "A murder victim was found in his home. He had multiple stab wounds. At least twenty, they reported."

"That has to be a coincidence," Morgan suggested.

"Let's go check it out." Rossi urged.


	3. Chapter 3

Rossi gradually stepped into the bungalow and studied the surroundings as he made his way through the house. He was lead to the living area with Morgan and Captain Santana to the back of the house where the body laid on the floor. Santana looked to Rossi after he examined the victim and they nodded to each other in agreement.

"Do we have a point of entry?" Rossi asked the detective.

"No signs of forced entry, we believe he came in through the front door. We are having it dusted for prints," he responded.

"This has to be a copycat," Morgan started. "Come on, we've seen this before. It's meant to cast doubt in the event we were to have a retrial."

"If this is a copycat, they're a pretty good one." Santana acknowledged as he looked around the living space with his hands on his hips.

"Detective, what was the TOD?" Rossi questioned.

The policeman looked at his notepad. "The ME put time of death between 12:00 and 12:30 this afternoon."

"I hate to say it, but Phelps was smackdab in the middle of his press conference at that time." Rossi looked over the body and shook his head. "It's all too eerie to me to just be a coincidence. We should get back to the BAU and talk with the team." Rossi reached out his hand. "Thanks Julio. Let me know if you guys get anything else."

"You know I will."

* * *

"What are you thinking, Dave?" Hotch asked as the team sat at the round table, minus Prentiss and Reid.

"It's hard to explain, but as I stepped into that house it felt so familiar. I have been to thousands of crime scenes and yet there was also something so omniums about these ones in particular. And I got that same feeling being in that house today. Nothing was out of place. There was no sign of a struggle. The victim was always exactly where he wanted them to be." Rossi was deep in thought as he tried to put his feelings into words.

Hotch's phone rang, breaking the tension in the room. He placed it on the table and answered. "Go ahead Reid, you're on speaker."

"John Phelps spent most of his time in the library. I looked at his reading history, it consisted of every type of law book that they had. He was extremely adamant that he was innocent and worked at proving it," Reid explained.

"When he wasn't trying to build his own case, he was assisting other inmates. He was known as the unofficial lawyer around here. He would help them with simple casework; how to file motions and such." Prentiss started. "He would also help some with getting their GED and even taught one prisoner how to read. Some people here expressed how much they are going to miss him."

"It seems he was making a difference on the inside," JJ voiced.

"Did he cause any trouble?" Rossi asked.

"None. He had a spotless record." Reid announced. "The warden stated several times that Phelps was a _model citizen_."

"Continue to find out what you can. Talk to any of his cellmates any the fellow prisoners that he took a special interest in. He might have talked to them about any plans that he has for when he got out." Hotch instructed.

"Will do." Prentiss ended the call.

"Dave, is there anyone specific from the past cases that you would like to reach out to?" Hotch asked.

"Yes, there are a few that I have stayed in contact with over the years. Some of the family members check in with me to see if there are any changes. I will make the calls."

"What about Olivia Hill?" Morgan asked.

"What about her?" Rossi took a defensive posture.

"I was reading over the report. She was in the house, yet she never testified. What was that about?"

"We showed her a photo array and she picked out Phelps as the person who murdered her parents as she hid in their bedroom closet. I didn't think it was a good idea to put an eight-year-old girl on the stand to testify in front of that monster." Rossi snarled.

"Dave," Hotch stared at his friend. "Why don't you go make those calls."

Rossi looked to Hotch then headed to his office.

"Okay, what is with the girl?" Morgan questioned.

"He has kept in touch with Olivia throughout the years. He is a little protective." Hotch explained. "Now, let's get to work." Hotch got up and left the room.

"A _little protective_?" Morgan snarked, "and I'm the Queen of England."

"Well, your majesty, you would have made the same decision," JJ pointed out.

"Garcia, I think you need to look into Olivia Hill, see if there is anything we should know about," Morgan suggested.

"Oh, I don't know," Garcia was hesitant.

"Maybe we should," JJ turned to her friend.

Garcia started to click away at her laptop. "Oh, she's _that_ Olivia Hill?"

"Who is she?" Morgan questioned.

"She is a very popular local actress. I have seen her at the Tolgate Theater like a few hundred times." Garcia became excited. "She sings like a _dream._ She's amazing!"

* * *

The UnSub sat in his car with the engine off and window down as he waited on the street where she lived for almost an hour. At that time of day, he would go unnoticed, with most of the residents at work or away from their homes.

A shiny blue sedan drove past him and turned into the driveway. The UnSub sat up in anticipation as he watched Olivia exit her vehicle with a couple of bags over her shoulders and a to-go cup of coffee in her hand while the other hand fiddled with her keys. As she made her way toward her door, she noticed a long white box sitting on her front porch. The box had her name and address on the shipping label.

Olivia unlocked her door, stepped in and dropped off the items she was carrying. She went back and picked up the box. The UnSub held his breath as her hands clutched the box and examined it. She turned and headed back into her house and shut the door.

She placed the box on the table and took a drink of her coffee. After slicing through the taped sides, the top lifted easily. Olivia beamed to see a bouquet of snow white dogwoods. "How beautiful." She remarked. She found a small envelope and opened it to see a typed message. The flowers dropped to the floor as she read _Did you miss me?_


	4. Chapter 4

Rossi sat on Hotch's office sofa while going through his old files as Hotch sat in the chair at the end of the table taking notes. Rossi put the folder he was reading down and pulled his ringing cell phone from his pocket, looked to see who was calling and answered. "Hey," he listed to the caller. "Wait, calm down."

Hotch looked up to see Rossi's demeanor change into concern.

"The card said what?" Rossi stood up. "Sit tight, I'll be right there."

"What's going on?" Hotch asked as he got up to follow him.

"That was Libby, she got flowers delivered with a card that said _Did you miss me?_ I need to go."

Rossi and Hotch were heading down the stairs as Prentiss and Reid entered the bullpen. Rossi stormed between the two agents without acknowledging them.

"Wha-" Prentiss turned then looked to Hotch. "I'm going to start taking that personally."

"Why don't you two go with him." Hotch suggested.

Reid turned. "Rossi, wait up."

They both made it onto the elevator with Rossi just as the doors closed.

* * *

Prentiss studied Rossi tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he drove. "So, where are we going?" She asked, breaking the tension.

"We are going to check on Olivia Hill." He stated matter-of-factly.

"The daughter of the last victims?" Reid asked from the backseat.

"Yes."

"What's going on with her?" Prentiss questioned.

"Look, before you profilers start delving into my life, I might as well just tell you." He let out a sharp breath. "Olivia was just eight-years-old when she witnessed her parents' murder and I literally carried out of the crime scene. I stayed with her for hours until her Aunt Gladys was able to make it back into town from a business trip. Over the years I kept in touch and made sure she was doing well."

"One day, when she was about thirteen, she called and asked if I would join them for dinner. Which usually meant that I was invited to come over and cook for them, which I happily did." He smirked as memories flooded his thoughts. "She told me that she had something important she wanted to talk to me about. Her school was having a father/daughter dance and she wanted me to take her."

"That's sweet," Prentiss remarked.

"My life changed that day."

"How so?" Reid asked.

"Her friends knew that she was an orphan, so naturally they were curious to who I was. She told them that I was her Uncle Dave. That was when I knew I was her family."

* * *

The government issued SUV pulled up in front of Olivia's home. The agents exited the vehicle and approached the house. Prentiss looked around the surrounding area but didn't notice any unusual people, cars, anything that seemed out of place or didn't belong.

Rossi knocked on the door. "It's Dave." He announced.

Moments later the lock tumblers clicked and Olivia opened the door. "I'm so glad you're here. I was really freaked out. I hope I didn't pull you away from something important."

"Don't worry about that." He turned to the others. "This is Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid."

"Emily." Prentiss went to shake her hand. "It is so nice to meet you."

Olivia smiled. "It's good to finally put a name to a face."

"Tell me what happened." Rossi looked to the flowers on the floor.

"I came home and saw that this box was on my front doorstep. I opened it, saw the bouquet, and that's when I read the card."

Reid examined the flowers. "Dogwoods are an odd choice. They usually represent rebirth or purity." He turned to her. "Does that mean anything to you? Any significance, perhaps?

"They're actually my favorite flower. But not very many people know that." Olivia then turned to Rossi. "I actually thought they were from you at first, since you are the only person who has ever given me dogwoods."

"Do you mind if I take a look around?" Reid asked pointing toward the hallway.

"Go ahead." Olivia nodded.

Reid found his way to a back room that was used as an office with a computer set-up in one corner and in the other, a large professional drafting table. All of her supplies were organized with several types of pencils and pens, T squares, French curves, and other tools of the trade. There were multiple rolls of blueprints and a large portfolio carrier that leaned against the chair. The walls were covered with architecture inspired artwork.

He turned the corner, leaving the office and walked down a long hallway with framed posters from Broadway shows and classics from the silver screen. He then joined the group. "Have you noticed anyone suspicious at work?"

"I work from home, I'm a contractor. I will go to clients or worksites when needed."

"What about at the theater?" Rossi asked."

"So many people come and go from there. Some can get a little weird, but I can't think of anyone who stands out." Olivia explained.

"Theater?" Prentiss questioned.

"The Tolgate." Reid replied. "Garcia and I actually saw her when she was in _Much Ado About Nothing_ a couple years ago."

"You remembered me?" Olivia was taken aback.

"Yes, you played Beatrice." Reid answered.

Prentiss approached while holding the delivery box. "Do you commonly go by Libby?"

"Only with very close friends and family. Why?"

"Because this had been addressed to _Libby_ not _Olivia._ " Prentiss informed.

Reid looked at the box. "This isn't a real shipping label. However, it appears that someone wanted to make it look like it was one."

"So, it was hand delivered?" Olivia asked as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Come on." Rossi approached her. "You're going to come with us."

"What?" She became worried, "for how long?"

"I want to send a unit here. They will do a sweep, check for bugs, signs of a break-in, anything."

"Don't you think you're being slightly overprotective?"

"I agree with Rossi," Prentiss started. "It's just a precaution."

Olivia approached Rossi and looked him in the eye. "I think we are all avoiding the elephant in the room." She paused. "Could that message be from John Phelps?"

"It's possible." Rossi admitted. "That's what we are going to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

Rossi escorted Olivia into the BAU for her first time. She marveled to be in an FBI building and to see all of the people there were throughout the open floorplan. "Isn't it uncomfortable sitting with a gun at your waist all day?" She asked leaning toward him.

Rossi let out a small chuckle. "You get used to it."

She followed him into his office where he motioned for her to sit on the sofa. She set down her purse then took a seat as he planted himself across from her on the coffee table. He was getting ready to ask her a difficult question. "What is it?" She beat him to it.

"When was the last time you talked with Aiden?" He stared at her.

"Aiden?" She was caught off guard. "Why would you ask about him?"

"Is it possible that he sent you the flowers?" Rossi questioned.

Olivia laughed. "I highly doubt that." She readjusted her seat and leaned closer to him. "I haven't seen or talked with him since we broke up. I know he wouldn't be sending me flowers out-of-the-blue and not even signing his name. Not like he ever sent me flowers when we were together, anyway." She scoffed.

"I am just trying to cover all the bases." He patted her knee then stood up. "Just sit tight, I need to take care of something. I'll be right back."

* * *

Rossi wasted no time as he charged into Garcia's office.

"Oh, sir!" She swiveled around in her chair. "Hotch told me about the flower delivery. I have already been scouring florist shops to see what I can find, and so far, nothing."

"There wouldn't be any trace of a delivery. They were dropped off in person. The shipping label was forged to look like it was from a legitimate company." Rossi updated her. "Could you actually look for who purchased dogwoods in the last couple of days? They aren't that common, believe me, I've had to search to get them for her before."

"Will do."

Rossi made his way toward the door then stopped. "Also, as you search, let me know if the name Aiden Pratt comes up."

Garcia scribbled the name down. "Of course. Do you think he could have sent the flowers?"

"I don't know. I doubt it, but I want to look at any and all possibilities."

"I should have an answer soon." Garcia promised.

"Thanks." Rossi remarked as he left.

* * *

Olivia got up from the sofa and wandered around Rossi's office. She made her way to his desk and took a seat. She reached for a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a cute note for Rossi to find later. She then looked to the right of his desk. "Score." She exclaimed to herself as she noticed the espresso machine.

Within minutes she was savoring the aroma of the rich, tasty coffee. She continued to move her way through the small room while focusing on the knick-knacks and pictures he had out on display.

Olivia took a sip then had the overwhelming feeling that she was being watched. She quickly turned around then let out a subtle gasp as she noticed Hotch standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry." He said as he entered the office. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Olivia beamed and placed the cup down on the table when she noticed the familiar face. "Don't worry about it, Aaron." She moved toward him.

He reached out and shook her hand. "How are you doing?" He asked with a concerned look.

"I'm handling everything in stride," she paused, "how's Jack? You know, he still owes me a Go-Fish rematch. I want my four bucks back."

Hotch grinned, "I am sure he can accommodate you with that." He held out his hand toward the sofa. "Come, have a seat."

Olivia sat back down on the black leather sofa as Hotch sat next to her.

"Did Dave tell you that we are looking back into your parent's case?" Hotch asked gracefully as his elbows rested on his legs while keeping his hands together.

"Please don't tell me this is all because of those flowers. They are probably some stupid prank." She tried to wave it off.

"That is possible and we are looking into it. But we reopened this after Phelps was released," he confided.

Olivia got up and moved to the opposite side of the office. "Can we just leave it alone? I have worked so hard to get past all of this, to get past _him_. I just don't want to go down that road again." She turned her back toward Hotch as the tears filled her eyes. "It will hurt too much."

Hotch stood up and moved closer to her. "I can appreciate and understand your pain, but he murdered nineteen other people before your parents. Those victim's families haven't been able to get past it. They never had someone held accountable for those crimes. They never had closure."

Olivia tighten her eyelids shut, pushing the tears down her cheek, then let out a shaky breath. She turned around and looked up to Hotch. "Okay, what do you need from me?"

"Would you be able to talk about what you remember from that night?" He knew he was asking a lot from her.

"I've been over it a million times in my head. Don't you still have the original report?" She questioned.

"We would need to hear it again. Sometimes after time has passed, you can remember things you didn't before." He tried to explain.

Olivia nodded. "Okay, when do you want to start?"

"I'm going to have two agents come in here and they will conduct the interview." He informed.

"You won't be here?" She became nervous.

"Don't worry. It's best to have unbiased people conduct the interview because they wouldn't be emotionally involved."

"Alright. Let's get this over with." She took a sip from her espresso then leaned back on the sofa. "Send them in."

Hotch gave her a reassuring smile before he left the room. "It will be okay, Olivia."


	6. Chapter 6

Olivia waited impatiently in Rossi's office after speaking with Hotch knowing that reliving her story would be difficult. She then looked up when she heard a knock on the opened door.

"Olivia?" JJ asked as she stood in the doorway.

She sat up straight on the couch and nodded her head.

"Hi, I'm Derek, and this is Jennifer." Morgan announced as he entered the room, then seating himself across from the sofa.

"You can call me JJ." She took a seat on top the coffee table in front of her. "Are you aware of why we are here?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes, Aaron told me that you need to interview me. See if I remember anything differently than I did before."

"That's right. We are going to ask you a few questions about when your parents were killed." JJ said softly. "Do you think you could start by telling us anything you can remember from that day?"

Olivia let out a deep breath and prepared herself. "I remember that day being pretty normal. I went to school, we all had dinner together, just a typical day." She continued to breathe deeply as she went through those dark memories. She then nervously rubbed her upper arm. "It rained all day and into the night. I awoke to the thunder crashes. They were so close that my bedroom window was rattling. I got out of bed and went into my parent's room. I sat with my mom for a while as she calmed me down."

"Was your dad there, too?" JJ asked.

"He wasn't in the bedroom. I think he was in the living room. He was talking to someone; I heard another man's voice."

"Did you know who it was?" Morgan asked.

"No, but then they both started yelling at each other. The next thing I remember is my mom moving me into the closet and telling me to stay quiet. My dad and the man then came into the bedroom and they were both still arguing."

"What were they arguing about?" JJ questioned.

"I don't remember." She shook her head.

"Were you able to get a good look at the man?" Morgan asked as he leaned in.

"Yes. He stood in the doorway for a moment. Then out of nowhere he charged toward my dad, pushed him onto the bed and was on top of him stabbing him over and over again." Olivia recalled. "My mom rushed over and tried pulling him off; but he pushed her down. She crawled back toward me, I was still in the closet. I had my hands covering my eyes and didn't see what else that happened. When I opened my eyes, he was gone and my parents were dead."

JJ and Morgan earnestly listened as Olivia told her story. They knew she was trying to hide her pain.

"What happened after that?" Morgan asked.

"I stayed in that closet for what felt like a lifetime. I was too frightened to move. I didn't want to come out and have to acknowledge that they were really dead, that all of it was real. I eventually heard voices. At first I thought that he came back, that he was looking for me." Olivia then cracked a subtle smile, "but that's when I heard a calming voice call out to me and the closet door opened. Agent Rossi found me in there and carried me outside. It had just stopped raining, there was still a mist in the air from the storm that happened earlier."

Olivia closed her eyes and could still feel the chilled air on the face from that night. "I remember the police car's lights sparkling in the puddles. It was like red and blue glitter all over the place. For that moment, I saw a break in the gloom. It actually made me happy, if you can believe it," she wiped her wet cheek. "A few hours later my Aunt Gladys finally arrived and it suddenly started to rain again." She turned to JJ, "I always thought it was funny how people could love the rain. But for me, it's only a painful reminder of the worst day of my life. I hate the rain."

"Rossi told us that you were shown a photo array of possible suspects the next day, is that right?" Morgan changed the subject.

"Yes, several of them." Olivia was becom increasingly agitated as the questioning continued.

"You picked out John Phelps from that group of pictures?" JJ questioned.

"Yes, as soon as I saw his picture." Olivia stated.

Morgan stared at her, "and you were absolutely sure?"

"Yes. I knew right away. Like I told you, he was in my house." She snapped back. "He murdered my parents." She was unable to stop the tears from flooding her eyes then slapped both her hands down onto her lap. "Are we done here?" She stood up without wanting an answer. With one quick motion, she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the office.

Olivia rushed down the stairs and headed toward the elevator as she wiped her tears away with the heel of her hands. She made her way to the doors of the elevator and pressed the down button several times, trying to force the doors to open sooner.

"Hey, Libby." Rossi called out as he rushed after her and grabbed ahold of her arm. "Where are you going?"

She turned to him with her eyes red and swollen. "I can't go through this again. I'm not strong enough."

Rossi pulled her away from the elevators to the side of the foyer. "That's where you're wrong. You aren't alone in this. I am here for you, remember that!" His hands squeezed her arms as he tried to comfort her. "I am going to have some agents escort you home."

"I thought it wasn't safe." Olivia was apprehensive.

"They finished sweeping your place. They found no bugs or trace of anyone being there. The agents will stay with you and keep you safe." Rossi tried to reassure her.

"Where will you be?" She asked.

"I have a few things that I need to take care of. Don't worry, we have the best people working on this." Rossi held onto her.


	7. Chapter 7

Olivia exited from the front seat of the black SUV and focused on her house. Reid and Prentiss joined her as they approached the main entrance. She removed the keys from her bag but Prentiss stopped her.

"Let me go in first." Prentiss opened the door, looked around then nodded for Olivia and Reid to come in.

Olivia tried to make herself at home with her unexpected guests over. "So how long is this going to be?"

"The next few hours, for right now. Until we know more," Prentiss informed.

"Okay," Olivia started. "Are either of you vegetarians?"

The two agents glanced to each other then back to Olivia as they shook their heads.

"Any allergies I should be aware of?" She asked while opening the fridge.

"Why do you ask?" Reid questioned.

"I was always taught to feed my house guests," She placed a few items on the counter.

"You really don't have to bother," Prentiss held up her hand trying to discourage her.

"It's no bother. I'm hungry anyway, I'll just add more. Besides the good doctor looks as though he is in need of a hardy meal," she snickered.

Olivia quickly got to work pulling out her cookware and food. She grabbed a bulb of garlic and used her hand to smash it into pieces. She placed a handful of cloves in front of Reid. "Could you peel these for me?"

"What can I help with?" Prentiss eagerly asked.

Olivia soon had her cubing raw chicken. She then noticed that Reid had no idea what he was doing. "You look like you are peeling a grape. Here, let me show you a trick." With the chef's knife in her hand, she held it sideways over the garlic and smashed it forcing the skin off. "Just like that. Then you can mince."

The trio all took part in preparing their meal together. "All right," Olivia said as she stirred the pot. "Just waiting for the pasta to be done and then mix it all together. Maybe another five minutes."

"I am going to do a quick patrol around the house. I'll be right back," Prentiss informed Reid then walked out the front door.

Olivia stirred the pasta over the stove and turned to Reid. "What if we don't get any answers soon, how long could this possibly last?"

"It really all depends," Reid replied. "It could just be a patrol outside for a while."

She nodded and reluctantly returned to her cooking.

Prentiss entered the house as Olivia was setting the plates on the table. "It's going to be pretty dark soon, making it more difficult to see outside."

The group sat around the table and started to eat. "I would offer you some wine, but I know that you're technically working." Olivia smirked.

"Thank you," Prentiss started. "But you can help yourself."

"That's okay, I'm good for now."

"This is excellent." Reid remarked before putting another fork full in his mouth.

Olivia smiled, "thank you, it's nothing special."

* * *

Reid strolled into the living room area and looked at the pictures displayed on the table under the large window. "Who's this woman with you?" He asked as he looked at her high school graduation photo.

"That's my Aunt Gladys. She passed away a few years ago."

Reid looked at the next photo of her college graduation with Rossi standing with her. The same picture he had in his office. He then focused on a picture of her in front of the Colosseum. "When did you go to Rome?"

Olivia approached, and glanced at the same picture. "I went a few years ago. Uncle Dave said that if I wanted to study architecture and engineering then I needed to go to some of the more remarkable engineering feats. So, when he had some time, he took me." They looked at the next few pictures from their trip together.

She lifted her eyes to see out the window and tilted her head in a curious way. "What the hell?" She questioned.

Reid looked to Olivia then outside. He grabbed her arm. "Move away from the window!" He exclaimed as he quickly removed his revolver and turned to Prentiss with Olivia standing behind him. "There's a man standing a few feet from the window."

Prentiss ran to the front door and threw it open with her glock in hand. She searched out front then returned back inside. "No one was there." She looked to Olivia who was standing in the corner of the room. "Did you recognize him?"

Olivia shook her head, "he had on a hood or something. He was just standing there."

Reid holstered his weapon, "same here." I couldn't make out a face." He then pulled out his phone as he headed toward the back room. "I'm going to update Hotch."

Prentiss moved toward Olivia with her hand extended toward her. "You okay?"

Olivia nodded and took a step forward.

"You sure you didn't recognize him?" Prentiss asked again.

"I'm sure. I never saw a face," Olivia responded as her voice shook.

"That's okay," Prentiss assured her.

* * *

Rossi and Hotch entered the Medical Examiner's office where they met up with Captain Santana. "Good evening. Sorry to call you out this late, but she just completed her examination and i know we wanted to get information on our victim."

"Are you guys convinced that Phelps just started killing again right after being released from jail?" A woman asked as she approached.

"And you are?" Rossi asked.

Santana took a step forward. "This is Detective Bradshaw, she will be the lead on this case."

"The lead?" Rossi questioned. "I thought you would be working this case with us, after all, we did work it the first time and know it better than anyone."

"I will still be involved, however the Chief of Detectives wanted to add an impartial person to the investigation. The last thing we need is Phelps to claim that we have some sort of vendetta against him."

The group moved through the double doors to the ME as she stood over the body covered with a blue sheet.

"Have you met Doctor Wilcox?" Santana introduced.

The doctor lowered her mask and smiled. "Yes, we've worked on some cases before."

"So, what can you tell us?" Bradshaw wasted no time.

"After I completed my autopsy, I read the notes from the original murders. I can not tell you definitively that this is the same guy, but I can tell you that this victim was stabbed 37 times in the chest," the ME explained.

Hotch excused himself from the room when he heard his phone ringing.

"And you're sure about that count?" Santana questioned.

"Positive," she replied.

"Could you send a copy of the report to my office?" Rossi asked.

"Certainly."

Hotch came back into the room, "Rossi, we have to go."


End file.
